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Katsuki thinks back to when he noticed he wasn’t like other kids. When he noticed he was distinctly different.
The speakers on the stage come to life, music blasting out of them before our little brains can catch up.
Katsuki covers his ears. The music is extremely painful and he becomes afraid because none of his friends are reacting the way he was.
Was there something wrong with him?
A tear falls from his eyes, but he smiles and laughs as the music floods through him.
Then Katsuki dances.
He dances until he feels like he’s floating through every movement. He feels free.
Katsuki glances over at his friends that he’s come to enjoy being around this year.
He wants to make sure he gets this right.
Despite only being in Kindergarten, Katsuki feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.
If he doesn’t get this right, he’s failed himself and will never set foot on a stage again.
That’s what his mother told him anyway.
“If you aren’t the best one out there, then we’re never paying for lessons again”, were her exact words.
It made his insides churn with a hurt he’d never experienced before.
Katsuki had never understood new emotions and feelings.
He’d lash out and become frustrated, more with himself than with others, but that didn’t make it any less difficult for people to handle his “tantrums”.
He wasn’t lashing out for attention, though. That’s what the definition of a tantrum is, but he wasn’t throwing a fit for shits and giggles.
Katsuki got angry and inconsolable because he was frustrated and didn’t understand why he was feeling the way he felt.
So, he masked himself up.
He pretended to be a tough guy with anger issues and an uncontrollable urge to set off his quirk, but that wasn’t really him.
Katsuki didn’t “throw tantrums” anymore like he used to, he didn’t jump around repeatedly in a circle, he didn’t ask conventionally “uncomfortable” questions, and he didn’t pick at certain foods.
Until he started his second year at UA.
Katsuki felt comfortable and safe around his classmates for once, and started opening himself up more and more to them.
Well, as much as he’d let himself open up to anyone.
The fear of being judged and ridiculed for being anything but “normal” still consumes him.
Currently, Katsuki’s classmates and him stand in one of the many training facilities that UA has to offer.
They’ve been given instructions to use their quirks to help rescue “civilians”. The only problem with that is how loud and bright everything seems today.
It felt like someone turned a dial up for Katsuki’s senses.
Using his quirk would send him into a spiral of unintentional panic and self destruction, so he opted to do this exercise quirkless.
The exercise starts and all Katsuki can do is dodge again and again. The thought of someone touching him sends a shiver down his spine.
Concentrate, Katsuki.
He dodges until he gets to the mock civilians. He’s had real world practice with rescuing people from collapsed buildings.
The war taught them all that and more.
He lifts up the rubble and extends a shaky hand towards the person “trapped” underneath,
“You’re safe now. I’m gonna get you outta here. You just gotta take my hand. Can you do that for me?”
The person underneath is shaking, “My legs. I can’t move. I need assistance with walking.”
Katsuki nods and lifts them up fireman style, and carries them towards the “medical team”.
He sets them down gently in the stretcher and shakily tells the “paramedics” what the situation is.
All Katsuki can think is that this is too much.
One more person touches him and he’s down.
“Bakubro! That was such a manly save back there! You were so calm and collected the entire time! I’m sure you’ll pass with flying colors!”
Kirishima rests a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Katsuki feels himself fall apart.
He muffles the sounds of his sobs and pulls at his hair.
When that doesn’t help calm him down, Katsuki starts stomping his feet against the ground as hard as he can, but it seems like that’s not working either.
Katsuki thinks he can hear someone calling his name, but he doesn’t care. He’s just trying to focus on stopping this onslaught of emotions.
Katsuki can feel himself sliding against a wall towards the ground, and curls up on himself instinctively.
His hands press hard against his ears and he squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the lack of light and most of the sounds around will help calm something in him.
Someone touches his right hand and tries to bring it away from his ear gently,
“DON’T TOUCH ME!”
There’s a person crouched down in front of him.
Bakugou?
Bakugou.
“Katsuki.”
He snaps up at his given name and presses himself against the wall, “Izuku?”
“Yes. That’s right. Aizawa-sensei is on your right and Kirishima on your left.”
Katsuki sobs in earnest now, “I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me! Everything’s just too bright, and loud, and smelly, and everything hurts when someone or something touches me! Izuku, I don’t know what’s happening to me!”
Katsuki looks away from his piercing emerald eyes as Izuku speaks softly, “It’s going to be alright, Kacchan. Kirishima, do you have any noise canceling earbuds or headphones?”
Kiri gives a nod of affirmation and Izuku smiles, “Could you go grab them for Kacchan please?”
Kirishima gets up slowly and Present Mic takes his place, “Hey, little listener. I heard you’ve been having a rough morning. Wanna talk about it?”
Kami, he felt like a little kid at that moment.
Everyone was being so fucking gentle with him.
“I’m not a baby, you know? I just woke up feeling off is all.”
Mic-sensei smiles, “We know you’re not a baby, nor do we intend on treating you like one. We’re just worried.”
Kirishima comes back over and hands Izuku the headphones, “Thanks, Kiri. Okay. Kacchan, I’m going to slip these on you. Is that okay?”
Katsuki nods and he smiles gently as the headphones slip over his ears.
All of a sudden everything feels,
“Holy shit. What the fuck? Why haven’t I invested in some of these? Kami.”
Izuku’s giggles are muffled, “Feel better?”
He nods, “Everything’s less, um…”
Katsuki waves his hands around, trying to find an emotion before sticking with,
“Everything just feels less.”
Izuku smiles, “Do you want me to bring you to my dorm? I promise it doesn’t look like an All Might shrine anymore.”
Katsuki nods and stands up slowly as Izuku holds out his hand. He takes it carefully and we head out of the training facility flanked by Aizawa and Mic-sensei.
——————————————————————
Katsuki laid in Izuku’s dorm.
As soon as we got in, Izuku turned on a small night light and got out a huge heavy blanket. Everything about his room was calming.
Katsuki thinks he fell asleep at some point because he felt someone gently shake me awake, unlike how his mother would scream and violently shake him.
Katsuki blinked up and saw Izuku smiling softly.
He took the headphones off carefully and set them on the boy’s nightstand,
“Hey.”
“Are you doing okay, Kacchan?”
His voice was soft. Not a hint of judgment, but that was Midoriya Izuku for you. To think Katsuki had told this amazing human being he couldn’t be a hero-
He shoved that thought away,
“I’m…Yeah. Everything’s better now. Thank you. For helping me through all that I mean.”
Izuku frowns, “It’s just basic human decency, Kacchan, but you’re welcome. Meltdowns suck, a lot, so I understand how tired you must be.”
Katsuki raises an eyebrow, “What’s a meltdown? Is that like another name for a tantrum, because they’re not fucking tantrums.”
Izuku stares at him wide eyed, “No. they’re not tantrums. Sometimes, when you go into sensory overload, in other words when everything gets to be ‘too much’, a meltdown happens because there’s just too much for your brain to process at one time. Does that make sense?”
Katsuki’s mouth hangs open, “There’s a fucking word for it?”
Izuku sucks in a breath, “Katsuki, I need you to listen to my next question with an open mind.”
He nods as Izuku asks, “Have you ever considered looking into Autism Spectrum Disorder?”
——————————————————————
After two weeks of research, he heads to Aizawa and Mic-sensei’s shared office.
“If you could choose anyone to tell them about this without them judging you, it’d be them.”, is what Izuku told him last night.
He knocks on the office door, a folder stuffed full of research and personal details clutched against his chest.
Present Mic is the one who answers with, “It’s open!”, and he steps inside while gently shutting the door behind himself.
Katsuki shuffles his feet around and looks at a painting hanging up just above Mic-sensei, “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
“That’s what we’re here for, listener! What can we help you with?”
Unable to look at his teachers, Katsuki mutters out, “Could you possibly set up an appointment so I can have an assessment done to determine if I’m autistic?”
Aizawa-sensei smiles softly, “We’d have to have a detailed recalling of any traits you presented in your childhood and throughout your life leading to now.”
Katsuki taps the folder he’s holding, “I’ve been doing research for a few weeks now, and I’ve got all the research and personal statements here, including some from Izuku, who I’ve known since we were basically in the fucking womb.”
Present Mic lets out a whistle, “Look at you, listener! That’s a pretty thick folder you’ve got there.”
Katsuki huffs, “It’s all color coded and organized by chronological order, and each timeline has its own color. I’ve put a little key card in there so it all stays organized.”
Aizawa-sensei sighs,
“Let’s set up a time where we can all go through this together with your parents. Then, regardless of what your parents input in the conversation, we’ll set up an assessment based on what’s in this folder and what we’ve observed as your teachers.”
Katsuki nods, “Thank you. I’ll just leave this with you guys then?”
——————————————————————
Izuku and Katsuki wait in their teachers’ office, hands intertwined with each others,
“It’s going to be okay, Kacchan. I’m sure Aizawa and Mic-sensei will send over a request for an assessment.”
Katsuki nods and the doors open revealing both their teachers and the Bakugou’s.
They all take their seats. Almost immediately, Mitsuki asks, “Has my brat been causing trouble for you?”
Izuku grips onto Katsuki’s hand a bit more, trying to reassure his partner that it’ll be alright.
Katsuki squeezes back, hoping this won’t be an absolute shit show.
Present Mic speaks in a level tone, “As Katsuki’s teachers, we’ve seen some behaviors and traits that could indicate that he’s on the autism spectrum.”
Mitsuki squawks, her husband quietly hanging his head downward, “Katsuki, can you believe this? They think you’re-“
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
Everyone goes silent at Katsuki’s statement, but he continues plowing through,
“I brought it up to them because I’ve been having difficulties in school and in social situations for as long as I can remember. Hell, I even brought them a folder stuffed with research and personal statements from Izuku and myself. It’s up to them if I need an assessment done. Not you. I’m not a minor anymore, so you can’t hold me back from getting the appropriate accommodations.”
Before Mitsuki could argue, Aizawa held up his hand and set a folder that was held closed by a rubber band on the desk,
“This folder here is filled with research and statements from Katsuki himself, Izuku and Inko Midoriya, and a past elementary school teacher. Present Mic and myself also wrote down our observations in a separate folder to send over to an assessment team to review before the appointment is even made.”
Katsuki sat up straighter at this, “Does that mean-“
“We’re requesting for you to have an evaluation for Autism Spectrum Disorder”.
——————————————————————
His parents argued tooth and nail with his teachers, trying to pull at what little strings they had over the situation, but in the end he had an appointment with a woman named Sana, who would be running the entire assessment. It made him feel less nervous knowing there wasn’t going to be a whole team of medical professionals assessing him all at once, but he was still anxious.
Izuku accompanied him along with Aizawa-sensei.
After the four hour long appointment was done, Katsuki smiled as he walked out the double doors, hand in hand with his partner.
He felt an immense relief at what Sana said before he left,
“Katsuki, I can say with almost full confidence that you're on the autism spectrum, but we won’t really find out until next month.”
He felt like he didn’t have to hide parts of himself anymore. That he could info-dump to his partner, stim, and use accommodations without feeling the need to hide or feel guilty about it.
This was a new beginning he was actually waiting for.